


Shining a Light

by magician



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Early in Canon, Gen, Seasonal, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-02 13:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16788088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magician/pseuds/magician
Summary: Jim has a problem, but he's not sure how to address it. Takes place at the beginning of Jim and Blair's friendship.





	Shining a Light

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [ainm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ainm/pseuds/ainm) in the [2018_TSSS_DrabbleDays](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2018_TSSS_DrabbleDays) collection. 



> **Prompt:** **Candles** – due 5th Dec/revealed 6th Dec

Jim's nose wrinkled as he entered the loft. It was late, he was tired, and having an offending odor permeating his home didn't help his mood. He furled out his hearing, but Sandburg wasn't there. He saw a scribbled note on the counter: 

  
_"out for the night._  
_dinner in the fridge"_

  
Jim sighed. Sandburg had stayed well past his "just a week", but things had been going well. Having a Sentinel expert at his beck and call outweighed having to share his personal space with a virtual stranger. Blair _had_ been accommodating. Jim would mention something once--well, with the towels on the bathroom floor, twice--and Sandburg changed whatever was needed, and more.   
  
He'd stopped listening to music unless Jim was out, because Jim could hear it even when he used headphones. He'd helped Jim shop for sheets, shirts and even underwear when Jim had rashes after a sensory spike, then bought oatmeal soap from the farmers market two days later. Potted herbs adorned the patio because Jim could taste mildew on the herbs they'd bought from the store. And he'd changed his shampoo, conditioner and aftershave so Jim's nose wouldn't be offended.   
  
But then there were the candles. He knew Blair meditated--after his warehouse blew up, Blair meditated that night to calm down. No candles then, but a week later they were lit in a small semi-circle on the living room table. Blair meditated, then blew out the candles. He cheerfully left for the library and Jim remained in the loft, which was permeated with a smoky residue. Blair bought "unscented" paraffin candles, but to Jim they smelled like burnt oil.   
  
Every time Jim intended to say something, Blair was rushing to Rainier, or a date, or had just done something particularly thoughtful. Eventually, Jim thought it would be churlish to complain when Blair did so much to help Jim and, indeed, the PD. But once or twice a week, Jim came home to that oily smell that turned his stomach. He sighed and opened the windows.  
  
  
  
Stopping by early to return some items to Evidence, Jim took a deep sniff. "What's that smell? Like something's burning."  
  
Rebecca Ackermann, the Evidence clerk, looked around. "Oh, it must be my candle," she said, pointing to the tiny menorah in the far corner. "If I put it on the counter, it'll probably set off the sprinklers." She blushed, "It's the first day of Hanukkah and I work the night shift, so this is the only way I can do the blessings. Am I in trouble?"  
  
Jim looked thoughtfully at the menorah then at Rebecca's worried face. "No… no. I just… what is the candle made of?"  
  
"Beeswax. Isn't it lovely?"  
  
"Yeah, it smells great." Jim signed the Evidence book. "Oh, Happy Hanukkah, by the way." Rebecca gave him a shy smile.  
  
  
  
Jim couldn't believe how much beeswax pillar candles cost. No wonder Blair didn't use them. He had the shop wrap them individually--eight big, fat candles. It would take months for Sandburg to burn through them. By then, maybe he'd convert. Or maybe Jim would just continue buying beeswax. It really was a soothing smell.  
  
Jim pulled in front of 852 Prospect, silently cursing when he saw the Corvair. He'd hoped to casually leave the candles for Blair to discover and pass off the gift lightly. Now, he'd have to explain, something he hated. Squaring his shoulders, he climbed the stairs.  
  
Delightful smells greeted him. Beef stew, perfect for a cold winter evening. Blair was pulling dinner rolls from the oven--the brown-and-serve ones Jim liked that tasted of yeast and milk and butter. Blair smiled an apology. "Sorry I didn't get to the PD. My office hours were crazy!" He pulled a salad and a beer out of the refrigerator, handing the latter to Jim. "Did you want to shower?"  
  
Jim took a large slug of beer --liquid courage. "Nah, everything smells great and I'm starved." He hung up his jacket, then put the bag he'd been carrying on the counter in front of Blair.   
  
"What's this?" Blair asked in surprise. At Jim's shrug, he opened a package. "Wow, this is beautiful." He took a deep sniff. "And it smells great. Are these all the same? I don't understand," he said, looking confused.  
  
"Uh. Hm, well, Rebecca in Evidence said it was Hanukkah and I didn't see a menorah but you said you'd had a bar mitzvah, so I thought…"  
  
As Jim stumbled through his explanation, Blair's confusion turned to astonishment, then to something softer. "Wow, thanks. This is the nicest Hanukkah present I ever received." He looked in the bag. "There's enough to go through the rest of the nights. And what doesn't get used up will go great when I'm meditating--" He stopped short, frowning, then widening his eyes. "Oh, man, are my candles bothering your senses? I _knew_ I shouldn't have gone with paraffin. Oh, man--"  
  
"Just settle down, Sandburg, and listen." Blair stopped and stared. "Look, I'm not very good with words…" Blair nodded encouragingly. "I could have mentioned something, but you tend to go overboard, which costs you time and money. Yeah, I'm not charging rent, but I'm getting the better deal with all you do for me and, by the way, for the PD.   
  
"I'm _glad_ I didn't say anything--you shouldn't have to buy deluxe candles because the other ones twist my nose. Besides, I like them--they smell… kind of peaceful. So, let me do this as a thank you for all the times I never say it… okay?"  
  
"Okay," Blair said with a shy smile. "Okay, man."  
  
Jim smiled back. "So, shouldn't you be lighting one of those?"  
  
Blair nodded. He retrieved a small end table from his room and stood it in front of the balcony doors, placing the candle on top and lighting it with a wooden match. He covered his eyes with his hands and began the prayer, " Baruch ata Adonay,…"

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't sure whether to post this for the Hanukkah prompt or candles; the candles won out!


End file.
